


Whiskey Wars

by shinyoten



Category: Hannibal (TV), Hannibal Lecter Series - All Media Types
Genre: Cannibal fluffs, Chiyoh has no chill, F/M, Hannibal only likes wine, Implied Hannibal/Chiyo, Jealous Will, M/M, One Shot, Possessive Will, Post-Episode: s03e13 The Wrath of the Lamb, Vignette, Whiskey always, Will never sleeps I swear, hannibal may or may not be a sexually fluid ho
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-29
Updated: 2015-11-29
Packaged: 2018-05-04 00:54:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 730
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5313920
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shinyoten/pseuds/shinyoten
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Will tolerates his cannibal, except he doesn't like to share him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Whiskey Wars

Hannibal watches Will stumble back and forth across the shoreline, as if he is contemplating throwing himself back into the ocean. Blood and sand mingle together, salt eating up wounds. Mangled clothes cling to a skinny frame. Dark curls are matted to his forehead and he just keeps pacing back and forth, maybe trying to wear himself out. To die there and bleed out on the beach.  
Hannibal could let him and considers it for a moment, but then approaches Will. "Not today."  
Will looks at him through heavy-lidded eyes, his breathing ragged. He reaches out towards Hannibal with shaky arm. "Not without you." His voice is barely audible, his speech slurred.  
Hannibal catches him as he faints.

~*~

Weeks pass, with difficult recoveries, with dull food from canned meals and cheap motels and summer houses with fake IDs. Hannibal and Will do not speak much, but they are not trying to kill each other anymore. They stitch up and dress each other’s wounds, say the general good mornings and good nights, but a wall rests between them.  
Chiyoh comes on occasion, to help with their plans, but seldom lingers. She disappears as quickly as she comes without so much as a welcome towards Will. She is clinical, business-like, going through the motions, but sometimes she passes an hour or two with Hannibal alone.  
Will doesn’t question it, but he wants to. He stays up sometimes, listening to their voices as they speak of flower arrangements, the morbidity and beauty of death, of old times and Mischa, of different worlds and languages he has never known. He listens when there is stillness too.  
One night, Hannibal opens the door, sees Will sitting outside in the hallway, and knows that he has been listening. "Chiyoh was just leaving. Come in Will."  
Will casts Chiyoh a glance, his face unreadable as she exits. He looks up at Hannibal, as if he has not registered the question.  
"Stay with me Will. Do not retreat into yourself," Hannibal commands and extends his hand.  
Will stands after a moment’s hesitation, takes the offered hand. A questions lingers in the air, but Will won’t allow it to be asked. He does wonder why tonight is any different than any other, and why Hannibal is trying to engage him though. He follows the cannibal into his room, and sits on the bed. He allows Hannibal to brush the hair out of his eyes, to press his weight into him, and then to kiss him with no warning. The older man’s lips hover above Will’s mouth when he does not reciprocate.  
"I do not like her," Will admits.  
Hannibal smiles, pressing Will down into the bed. He leaves a trail of kisses on the younger man’s neck, lies over top of him, and locks his legs with his.  
"I know," he breathes. "But do you like this?"  
Will does not answer, only leans into him with a curious fascination, burying his face into the crook of the man’s neck, holding onto him as if he is afraid to let go. 

 

~*~

Will is up drinking whiskey when Chiyoh leaves one night. He stands when she goes to the door, because it is two a.m. Because he wants to. Because he wants to snap her neck.  
"I knew him before you, I saw the monster grow," Chiyoh’s almond eyes say, piercing him in the dark. She pushes past Will, unaffected and unafraid.  
Will thinks of bounding after her, but instead goes to Hannibal’s room, where he know the man will be awake. His companion’s gruff, "hello Will," annoys him upon entrance and he slams the door. Hannibal looks at him questionably, dressed down in only a sweater and pajama pants. Will kicks his shoes off, jumps on the bed, and pulls Hannibal by the shirt into a savage kiss.  
"Whiskey again," Hannibal murmurs. "You should really let me buy you your liquor."  
"Shut up," Will growls between kissing, nipping, and rutting against him.  
Hannibal for once, does.  
~*~

They stand on the veranda in the open air, underneath the stars. Cicadas chirp in the distance. Hannibal sits in between Chiyoh and Will, sipping a glass of wine. Will is drinking from a flask, glaring at the sky. Hannibal glances at him, meeting his eyes. Will offers his flask to Chiyoh, but doesn’t look at her. She takes it without a word.


End file.
